


Sherlock: Wrapping On Presents

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Series: Sherlock: Impact [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Drama, Homophobia, M/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg have just moved in together when Mummy Holmes pays a visit for Christmas. Mycroft hasn't told his mother he's gay, meaning Greg has to lie about their relationship. It gets harder and harder to lie in the days leading up to Christmas. Will this end their relationship forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock: Wrapping On Presents

**Author's Note:**

> Ownership: Original characters are owned by Arthur Conan Doyle, these versions are owned by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I just get to play.
> 
> Beta: Squarerootofrsquared

_‘We live together,’ Greg said and grinned as he nuzzled into Mycroft’s neck. He felt fingers caress his cheek softly._

_‘Yes, we do.’_

_‘I’m so happy, Myc, you have no idea.’_

_‘I think I do,’ Mycroft said and opened his eyes, turning to look at Greg. He smiled and kissed him softly. ‘I love you too.’_

_Greg smiled and closed his eyes, hugging Mycroft closely in their flat._

 

\--

 

A month before Christmas Mycroft Holmes came home to a lovely home cooked meal. He grinned and entered the flat, stripping from his coat, jacket, waistcoat and tie. Greg wasn’t in the kitchen and he went into their bedroom, folding his clothes and placing them on the chair in the corner.

‘Gregory?’ he called.

The DI was nowhere to be seen and Mycroft frowned.

‘Gregory?’

The door slammed shut behind him and Mycroft turned. He nearly melted right there. Greg was standing completely naked with a rather impressive erection. He sauntered up to Mycroft slowly, eyes narrowed.

‘Erm... hello,’ Mycroft swallowed.

‘Good evening,’ Greg smiled. ‘I see you’re wearing far too many pieces of clothing.’

‘And I see you’re completely naked,’ Mycroft said.

‘I am.’

‘May I ask why?’

‘Well,’ Greg said as he reached his boyfriend. He tore at Mycroft’s shirt, slowly pulling the buttons free. ‘You’ve been sober two months.’

Mycroft moaned.

After admitting to being an alcohol, Greg and Mycroft had made a deal. Every day or week Mycroft got some form of sexual gratification if he remained sober. He got one kiss a day, something neither of them had followed too well. One week sober and Mycroft got a grab, a very nice grab. Two weeks Greg gave Mycroft a hand job, three weeks a blow job. Four weeks and Greg made Mycroft come with his fingers (a very, very good night for the elder Holmes). One full month and Mycroft was allowed to fuck Greg. Finally, after two full months, Greg would fuck Mycroft.

It seemed two months had sneaked up on the politician.

 ‘I was planning a romantic night but the more I thought about fucking you the hornier I got,’ Greg said, getting Mycroft’s shirt open. He ran his hands up the politician’s chest. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Mycroft shed his shirt quickly and grabbed Greg, hauling him onto the bed. Greg grinned as their lips crushed together, tongues and teeth pressing together in need and lust.

Greg pulled himself up and said, ‘Get your goddamn pants off.’

Rather than answer Mycroft pushed Greg free and kicked his shoes off. He managed to shimmy from his socks and trousers, while Greg ripped his underwear off. He took Mycroft’s hard cock in his mouth, the government official groaning and bucking up into his boyfriend’s mouth.

A few minutes later Mycroft had to push Greg free. ‘Gregory, please, I can’t stand it anymore.’

‘What do you want?’ Greg asked.

‘Fuck me,’ Mycroft begged.

‘Fuck you?’

‘Yes!’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Greg grinned and gave him a soft kiss. He shifted to grab the lube, slathering his fingers and pushing Mycroft back. Mycroft spread his legs and groaned when Greg started preparing him, three fingers slipping in easily after a minute.

‘Greg, please,’ Mycroft moaned.

Greg withdrew his fingers and said, ‘On your hands and knees.’

Mycroft complied quickly, rolling to do as Greg asked. He bit his lip waiting, listening to Greg spread lube over his cock and position himself.

Mycroft almost begged again before he moaned loudly, Greg slipping into him.

‘Oh God are you fucking tight,’ Greg moaned.

‘Greg, move!’

Greg complied, thrusting in and out quickly. He’d been hoping to draw this moment out but after more than three months of abstinence Mycroft’s arse was _so_ tight. In less than five minutes Greg was approaching an orgasm and started shouting curses and Mycroft’s name. His boyfriend reached for his own cock, jerking it in wild movements, fucking his own hand.

‘Greg,’ he grunted, eyes closed, spare hand fisting in the sheets. ‘So... close... there!’

He came suddenly, moaning and emptying himself into his fist. He swore and pushed himself back, muscles clenching around Greg.

‘Oh fuck!’ Greg shouted and came, leaking into Mycroft and continuing to move. ‘Fuck, Mycroft, oh God!’

Mycroft fell onto his stomach and Greg slipped out. The DI rolled onto his back and laid panting, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath.

‘Were you always that tight?’ Greg asked.

Mycroft chuckled. ‘I am when you don’t fuck me for three months.’ Though he’d only been sober two months, Mycroft hadn’t been fucked in so long. He had been away for business before he and Greg fought about his alcoholism.

‘I’ve never heard you call me Greg so many times.’

‘Mm,’ Mycroft mumbled.

‘Dinner’s waiting,’ Greg said.

Mycroft shrugged. ‘I’m more than happy here,’ he mumbled.

Greg smiled and wrapped his arms around Mycroft, nuzzling into his neck. ‘Me too.’

‘I love you, Gregory. Thank you.’

‘Thank _you_ ,’ Greg said and gave him a soft kiss.

 

-oOo-

 

The weeks leading up to Christmas were always worse than the actual day, Mycroft thought. Department stores were bringing out trees and tinsel and glitter sometimes as early as September. Christmas lights went up and kids were having their picture taken with Santa.

Mycroft Holmes hated it all.

He’d always disliked Christmas, ever since he was a child. Mostly it had been because his parents were too busy to be home on the actual day. Later it was because Sherlock liked to set fire to the tree. The only good part was he and Sherlock guessing what presents they’d received. It had been an early, and poor, use of their deductive skills.

This year Mycroft knew things would be different. He knew he’d still hate Christmas, that was for sure, but this year he had somebody to spend it with.

Gregory Lestrade.

Unlike Mycroft, Greg loved Christmas. He loved spending it with his sister and his nephews. He even liked seeing his mother and father. It was just weird.

Mycroft wasn’t sure how Christmas was going to work this year. He knew he’d have to make an appearance at Mummy’s and he knew Greg would want to go home. But did Mycroft go with him? And should Mycroft invite Greg to Mummy’s? He still hadn’t come out to his mother and he didn’t want to take Greg along and lie blatantly about their relationship.

A few weeks before Christmas Mycroft still didn’t know what to do and he was getting more frustrated.

 

-oOo-

 

It was freezing cold as Greg and John Watson headed out to do their Christmas shopping.

‘What are you getting Mycroft?’ John asked.

‘No idea,’ the DI said as they climbed into a cab, brushing snow from their shoulders. ‘Honestly, what do you get a man like Mycroft Holmes?’

John shrugged. ‘Dunno. A CCTV camera? New umbrella?’

‘Ha, ha, you’re a riot, Dr Watson.’

John smiled. ‘First Christmas together is a big thing.’

‘I know that,’ Greg said, ‘what did you and Sherlock do for yours?’

‘We didn’t actually spend Christmas together,’ John said. ‘Sherlock had to go to his mother’s for Christmas; Mycroft tricked him into it. It was too early in our relationship for me to meet her so I went to my sister’s.’

‘I bet that was fun.’

John chuckled. ‘Oh yeah, a bloody party. Anyway, I didn’t see Sherlock until the week after Christmas. Our gifts were of the... sexual variety.’

Greg smiled. ‘I don’t think I can give Mycroft my body for Christmas.’

‘Why not? Doesn’t he like it?’

‘Wow, you just get funnier and funnier.’ John’s grin widened as Greg continued. ‘We’ve been together... God, almost ten months now. I think it’s time I got him a proper gift. He managed to avoid telling me when his birthday was so I didn’t get him anything.’ Greg frowned at the memory of realising Mycroft had been detoxing on his birthday. ‘I honestly have no idea what to get him.’

‘Well we’re in the same boat,’ John said as the taxi blared its horn at a group of teenagers. ‘It took me ages to figure out what to get Sherlock for our anniversary. Now Christmas... God, whose idea was it to get gifts for Christmas?’

‘We’ll track ’em down and beat ’em to within an inch of their lives.’

John smiled and said, ‘Maybe I could get Sherlock a new microscope.’

‘He stole his last one from Bart’s.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I tried to arrest him but couldn’t get it to stick.’

‘Did Mycroft intervene?’

‘I suppose so. Now I think about it, it was probably Mycroft. Too bad we didn’t meet then.’

Greg became lost in memories of his boyfriend, imaging the many years they could have spent together if they’d bumped into each other earlier.

 

-oOo-

 

John and Greg parted ways when Greg spotted an antique shop. Greg left the doctor to his window shopping and entered the shop, browsing everything carefully. Mycroft liked older things, nicer things, and Greg wondered if maybe an old book or table would make him happy.

He froze when he reached the counter, eyes looking over the antique knick knacks in the glass booth. His eyes zeroed in on an antique pocket watch. It was silver with a long chain and clasp, sitting nestled between a horrible looking broach and a broken wrist watch.

‘Can I help you?’

Greg jumped and looked up to see an elderly man smiling at him. ‘Oh, er, can I look at the pocket watch?’

The man nodded and reached under the glass, handing Greg the watch. The DI rolled it between his fingers, marvelling at the intricate patterns on both side. He popped it open to find the glass intact, the hands ticking over.

‘Are you shopping for someone in particular?’ the shop keeper asked.

‘My boyfriend,’ Greg said.

‘Does he like pocket watches?’

‘He wears one all the time,’ Greg nodded. ‘I think he’d like this.’

‘I can engrave it if you wish.’

‘Really?’

The man nodded. ‘Of course.’ He slipped Greg a pen and piece of paper. ‘Just write down what you want the engraving to say.’

After procrastinating for a good twenty minutes, Greg decided to buy the watch (after making sure he could actually afford it). He thanked the shop owner, wished him a merry Christmas, and stepped back outside feeling better then he had all day. _Finally_ he had a gift for Mycroft. He’d already picked up a few things for his sister, Mum, Dad, even Sherlock and John.

He was grinning from ear-to-ear as he headed to the coffee shop where he’d agreed to meet John.

 

-oOo-

 

‘John, I found it, the perfect gift!’ Greg was all smiles when he met up with John for coffee. He was surprised to see Sherlock sitting beside the doctor, stirring a large coffee. ‘Sherlock, what are you doing here?’

‘Shopping,’ Sherlock said.

‘I can see that... how’s John supposed to get you a gift if you’re here?’

Sherlock turned his light blue eyes on his boyfriend. ‘You came out to buy me something?’

‘’Course I did,’ John said. ‘I haven’t found it yet so come Christmas day you might be opening an empty box.’

‘I could use some containers for more experiments.’

Greg smirked as he ordered a coffee and bagel.

‘No, Sherlock,’ John said sternly, ‘I’ve told you a dozen times. I’m not buying you any containers, corrosive acids, or any type of larvae.’

‘But John, I like bees,’ Sherlock whined.

Greg smiled as John said, ‘And I like where we live. Mrs Hudson will definitely kick us out if we let loose a swarm of bees.’

‘No she won’t, she loves us.’

‘She won’t love us if we let loose a swarm of bees in 221.’

‘You’ve already used that excuse.’

‘It’s a good excuse.’

Sherlock folded his arms and glared at the table as Greg and John shared smiles.

‘So what did you get Mycroft?’ John asked Greg.

Sherlock tutted but both men ignored him as Greg pulled something from the brown paper bag he’d been holding. It was an antique pocket watch in excellent condition. Greg had had a message inscribed on the back.

‘I was thinking of getting a small photo of us developed and put in,’ Greg said, clicking it open. ‘What do you think?’

Sherlock was staring at the watch as John looked it over. ‘It’s brilliant, Greg. He’s always wearing a pocket watch.’

‘I know. He always takes good care of it when he changes.’

‘It was our father’s.’ John and Greg looked up at Sherlock as he continued. ‘The pocket watch my brother wears; it was our father’s. Mycroft got it the day Father died.’

Greg frowned. ‘Oh... maybe I should get him something else then.’

‘No, Greg, it’s good,’ John tried but Greg was already stuffing it back into the bag.

‘I’ll get him something else.’

‘He’ll love it.’

Once again Sherlock had John’s and Greg’s complete attention. ‘What?’ Greg asked.

‘Our father... he wasn’t a very nice man,’ Sherlock said, eyes on the paper bag. ‘Mycroft had to take the watch; family honour or some such rubbish. Mother talked him into keeping it. Mycroft keeps it with him to remind himself that he’s a better man than Father.’ He paused to frown. ‘But I’d much rather him carry yours as a reminder that somebody loves him.’

Greg and John both stared at Sherlock who sniffed and looked away.

‘Er... right, ’kay,’ Greg said and sipped his coffee. Right, so Sherlock thought it was perfect... that _had_ to mean Mycroft would like it, right? Greg was so worried Mycroft would get him something fabulous and Greg’s gift would fail in comparison.

All he could do was hope that, come Christmas day, Mycroft didn’t hate it.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg left John and Sherlock to meet Mycroft for lunch. His boyfriend was waiting and the politician’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the brown paper bag.

‘What is that?’ Mycroft asked as Greg kissed him softly.

‘Nothing,’ the DI grinned and sat down to order.

‘It cannot be nothing, Gregory, it has to be something.’

‘Well this is nothing.’ Mycroft sighed and Greg grinned. ‘I’m not telling you what it is, Myc.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s special.’

‘Why is it special?’

‘’Cause I say so.’

Mycroft smiled. ‘Could it be my Christmas present?’

Greg frowned. ‘Why do you have to ruin everything?’ They stopped bickering to order; Greg having a burger and Mycroft pasta.

‘How have I ruined it?’ Mycroft asked.

Greg shrugged. ‘You just have.’

‘Why?’

‘’Cause I say so.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Let’s stop arguing, I’ve missed you.’

‘Missed you too,’ Greg smiled and kissed him again. ‘How’s Britain?’

‘Functioning.’

‘Are you sure? We’re not going to be overrun by zombies?’

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘Zombies, Gregory?’

‘Yeah, you know, some government experiment goes wrong and suddenly there are zombies everywhere. I’ve always thought that’s what happened to Sherlock; you know, a horrible experiment gone wrong. Nobody gets that annoying naturally.’

‘My brother isn’t a zombie.’

‘No, he’s more like a vampire.’

Mycroft chuckled and sipped his water. ‘So, you got me a present.’

‘Yup. Have you got mine?’

‘Not yet, no,’ Mycroft said and looked down. ‘I’m finding it rather hard to shop for you, Gregory.’

‘I’ll love whatever you get me, Mycroft.’

‘You can’t know that.’

‘I can because I love you.’

Mycroft rolled his eyes. ‘So if I wrapped up a carrot you’d like it?’

‘Yup, I could throw it at you while you bend over and let me take you.’

Mycroft blushed and had to suck down half his water before he was able to talk. ‘Gregory, please.’

‘Yes?’

‘I’ve asked you not to talk like that while we’re in public.’

‘Mm,’ Greg smiled, ‘but I’ve forgotten why.’

‘You know what it does to me.’

Greg grinned. ‘Myc, I think we should eat lunch _really_ quickly.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m kind of wanting a nice long drive in one of your cars... you know, the ones with the blackened windows and soundproof partition between us and the driver.’

Mycroft turned a deep red as their food was set down. Greg bit into his burger and watched as Mycroft played with his food.

‘Myc?’

‘I’ve suddenly found I’m not that hungry,’ the politicians said.

‘Eat all your lunch or we’re not taking that ride.’

Mycroft blinked before he began shovelling food into his mouth. Greg grinned.

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft was home from a two day business trip and Greg was cooking, looking completely at ease in the kitchen. They’d been living together close to a month and Mycroft couldn’t have been happier. He actually looked forward to coming home.

‘You want me to meet your family?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Yes,’ Greg nodded as he placed the meat on plates. Mycroft was leaning against the counter, watching as Greg added potatoes, vegetables and gravy. ‘We’ve been together nearly ten months and I think it’s time my parents met my significant other.’

Mycroft smiled as Greg trailed a finger through the gravy on the edge of the bowl. He raised it to his lips and made a show of licking his finger clean.

‘Um...’ Mycroft managed, eyes trained solely on Greg’s lips.

‘Yes?’ Greg smirked, placing the bowl in the sink.

‘I...’ Mycroft mumbled, swallowing as he watched his boyfriend.

‘Yes?’ Greg asked again.

Mycroft managed to compose himself after taking a drink of lemonade. ‘Yes, okay.’

Greg beamed. ‘Beautiful,’ he smiled and kissed Mycroft over the counter. Mycroft whined when he pulled away. ‘Later,’ Greg promised and picked the plates up. Mycroft smiled as he followed him to the table.

While Mycroft still insisted he was on a diet (and Greg glared every time he did), the politician had agreed to eat all his dinner when they were together. Greg insisted that when they did one of them would cook, they’d both finish all their food, and they’d wind up on the couch watching a DVD. Whoever had cooked chose the DVD and when it was done they’d fall into their bed in a tangle of limbs and tongues.

Since Greg had cooked he got to choose the DVD. Mycroft groaned as he sat back and Die Hard started playing. ‘Again?’ he asked.

‘This is Die Hard 2,’ Greg said. ‘Next time I cook its Die Hard With A Vengeance and then Die Hard 4.0.’

Mycroft frowned. ‘They’ve made four?’

‘And they’re making another one.’

‘What is the world coming to?’

‘Leave Die Hard alone,’ Greg said and snuggled closer. Mycroft wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tilted his head.

‘There’s nobody cute in this movie; what am I supposed to do?’

‘Perv on Bruce Willis.’ Mycroft tutted. ‘Fine, if you’re going to be like that.’ Greg pulled himself up and went to the TV.

‘No, Gregory, I’m sorry.’

Greg ignored him and switched the DVDs. Another movie started playing and Greg fell back onto the couch.

‘I don’t understand,’ Mycroft said, ‘I thought you were leaving.’

‘Nope,’ Greg said. ‘Though you insist on disrespecting John McClain, we don’t get to spend enough time together. So we’re watching Die Hard 4.’

Mycroft frowned. ‘I’m afraid I still don’t understand.’

Greg smiled and looked at the TV, settling into Mycroft once more. ‘Just watch.’

It didn’t take long for Mycroft to see what Greg was talking about. One glimpse of the main villain was all it took for Mycroft to get comfortable and enjoy the movie. Greg smirked every time Timothy Olyphant came on screen; Mycroft’s eyes were trained on the screen and he licked his lips a lot.

Soon it began to bug Greg; who did Timothy Olyphant think he was? An hour into the movie he flicked it off, earning an annoyed whine from his partner.

‘I was enjoying that.’

‘I know,’ Greg said and turned the TV off. He pulled Mycroft to his feet. ‘Come on.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Shower.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t understand,’ Mycroft said.

Greg grinned and licked his lips.

‘Oh,’ Mycroft smiled as Greg dragged him into the en-suite bathroom.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg’s days were filled with work and Mycroft and very, _very_ nice sex. Mycroft was away a lot and he worked hard too. The little time they had together was spent having dinner, reading books, and watching TV. When they weren’t too tired they retired to the bedroom. Early December Greg was feeling thoroughly strung out. He yawned as Mycroft rolled from their bed.

‘I think we need food,’ he murmured.

‘Mm?’ Greg said.

‘We’ve been in bed all day, Gregory.’

‘I know,’ Greg said, grinning at the memories.

Mycroft smiled. ‘Order takeaway.’

‘Really? Mycroft Holmes wants _takeaway_?’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘I do eat, Gregory.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Greg said and stood. He closed his eyes and said, ‘Just let me bask in the moment.’ Mycroft tutted and gave him a kiss before pulling a shirt on. ‘Hey, I prefer you as naked as possible.’

‘I’m not walking around naked, Gregory.’

‘Why not?’

‘Food,’ Mycroft said and disappeared down the hallway. Greg groaned and grabbed the phone.

 

-oOo-

 

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Greg was lounging on the bed, running his hands over the soft sheets.

‘Myc, door!’

It rang again.

‘Mycroft!’ He sighed when he received no answer and dragged himself from bed. ‘Honestly, he wants takeaway then disappears,’ Greg grumbled to himself. ‘Oh, there you are,’ he said as he stepped from the hallway. Mycroft smiled and answered the door, Greg turning to grab his wallet.

‘Mummy?’

Oh God, how did you respond to that? Greg’s mouth fell open as a tall woman entered the flat, wearing a very expensive skirt suit with her dark hair piled above her head.

‘My, darling,’ Mummy Holmes smiled and hugged her son. Mycroft just fell into the embrace, eyes wide.

Greg didn’t know what to do. He was standing in the living room wearing pyjama pants and... nothing else. He remembered Mycroft saying his mother didn’t know he was gay and Greg very badly didn’t want to ruin that illusion if Mycroft wasn’t ready to come out. But... really, how else could Greg explain being half naked and smelling of Mycroft and sex?

Mrs Holmes smiled fondly at her son before her sharp violet eyes found Greg. She raised an eyebrow and Greg said, ‘Erm, hello, I’m Gregory Lestrade.’

‘I see,’ she said slowly.

‘I’m a friend of Mycroft’s,’ Greg said and looked at his boyfriend, who looked terrified. ‘Mycroft’s kindly letting me stay here while I... erm, messy breakup, you know.’

Mrs Holmes nodded. ‘Oh, poor dear. My is a wonderful boy isn’t he?’

‘Yes,’ Greg said and smiled. ‘Excuse my... clothes, or lack thereof. I was just changing and came to answer the door because I thought Mycroft was out.’

Hmm, Mycroft certainly was rubbing off on him; so many lies in under a minute.

‘Oh, no need to be shy, dear,’ Mrs Holmes smiled. ‘I raised two boys, I’ve seen it all.’ Greg blushed and Mycroft nearly melted right there. ‘I’m Mellibelle Holmes, Mycroft’s mother.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Greg said and forced a smile. ‘I would stay but... well, I’m hardly dressed and I’m sure you want to catch up with your son. So please excuse me.’

He backed out quickly and locked himself in Mycroft’s en-suite bathroom. Jesus H Christ. Breakup? Who crashed at their mate’s because of a breakup? Greg supposed if he’d been living with someone and suddenly found himself homeless...

He shook his head and took deep breaths. Great, now he’d have to make up a fake boyfriend. Because there was absolutely _no_ way he was lying about his sexuality, no matter what Mycroft said.

God, how long was Belle staying? Greg would have to make sure not to act overly friendly with Mycroft.

That meant not kissing him.

Or touching him.

Or looking at him as anything more than a friend.

JESUS.

H.

CHRIST!

 

-oOo-

 

Greg was getting dressed when Mycroft joined him.

‘Gregory, I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was coming to visit.’

‘It’s fine, Mycroft,’ Greg said and pulled a shirt over his head. ‘How long is she staying?’

The politician swallowed. ‘Until after Christmas.’

Greg groaned. ‘Myc–’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’

‘What are we going to do? I can’t stay here for the next month; she’ll ask questions.’

‘I’m not having you stay anywhere else,’ Mycroft said. ‘I won’t kick you out of your own home.’

‘But she’ll start to suspect something. I’m not lying about my sexuality and she’ll probably hate that you’re letting me stay. She’ll wonder why I haven’t found a place after four weeks.’

‘I know, Gregory, I’m sorry.’ He sighed and rubbed at his hair, messing it up more. ‘I can’t believe this. She never visits and we never celebrate Christmas in the city.’

Greg swallowed and finished getting dressed. ‘We’ll cope, I guess. We have two guest rooms, I’ll move some of my stuff into one.’

Mycroft pulled Greg in for a hug and breathed in deeply, face pressed into his boyfriend’s neck. ‘I hate that I can’t be affectionate with you around her.’

‘You could if you told her.’

‘Gregory, I’m not ready–’

‘S’fine,’ Greg said quickly, pressing a kiss to Mycroft’s cheek. ‘Honestly, I don’t mind pretending.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, I do a bit,’ Greg said. ‘But I’ll do it for you.’ They drew back to look at each other and Greg smiled. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. You get dressed, I’ll move my things.’

‘Thank you, Gregory,’ Mycroft said and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. ‘I miss you already.’

Greg smiled and grabbed some clothes, leaving so Mycroft could change.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg joined Mycroft and Belle back in the kitchen. They were chatting over tea and Greg smiled. ‘Sorry, I can leave if you want.’

‘Nonsense, please join us,’ Belle smiled. ‘Tell me about yourself, Gregory. Mycroft speaks highly of you.’

‘He does?’ Greg asked, drawing up a chair and trying not to fall into it. He really needed a smoke, maybe a beer... or twenty.

‘Yes, you’ve been a good friend from what I hear.’

Greg smiled and tried not to look at Mycroft. ‘Well, I’m a detective inspector at Scotland Yard, I work in homicide. Erm, sometimes I work with your other son, Sherlock.’

‘Gregory’s been very good letting Sherlock work at crime scenes,’ Mycroft said.

‘I’m not happy Sherly’s still working murders,’ Belle said, ‘but I’m glad he’s focusing on something other than drugs and romping around the world.’

Greg smiled.

‘So, you just broke up with your girlfriend?’ Belle asked.

Mycroft stiffened as Belle continued.

‘My’s such a lovely boy, letting you stay.’

‘Yeah, he is,’ Greg swallowed.

‘Relationships can be difficult,’ Belle said. ‘Look at Mycroft; forty-five and still single. Honestly, My, when are you going to find a nice girl?’

Greg wanted to shout that he’d found a perfectly nice _man_ but figured that wouldn’t go over two well with either Holmes.

‘So Gregory, you lived with your girlfriend?’

 _God, please let it end_ , Greg thought. ‘No, not exactly,’ he said.

Belle raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

‘I... I lived with my boyfriend,’ Greg said.

Everyone froze, Greg staring at the table, Belle staring at Greg and Mycroft... Mycroft had his eyes closed.

‘I... don’t understand,’ Belle said after a minute.

‘I lived with my boyfriend,’ Greg repeated.

‘Why?’

He sighed. ‘I’m gay, Mrs Holmes.’

Belle stiffened. ‘Oh... I see.’

There was an awkward silence, Belle fiddling with her cup and Greg pointedly not looking at Mycroft. Mycroft still had his eyes closed.

‘Well, that’s unfortunate,’ Belle said. ‘ _Relationships_ can be... difficult.’

This whole conversation was difficult and Greg wanted to run screaming. How could one person put so much disdain into one word?

‘Well,’ Greg said, ‘I suppose I should leave you two to catch up.’ He stood to leave but Belle held out a hand.

‘Nonsense, Gregory, we’re going over to visit Sherly.’

‘We are?’ Mycroft asked, blinking back into reality.

‘Yes, I miss him,’ Belle said. ‘Let us go.’

‘Erm, I should check that he’s in, Mother,’ Mycroft said. ‘He’s often out.’

‘Well call, go on,’ Belle smiled.

‘Do I have to come?’ Greg asked.

‘Of course,’ Belle said.

‘Of course,’ Greg echoed. ‘Er, I’ll just get my shoes.’ He quickly exited and practically ran to his room... no, _Mycroft’s_ room. Greg was staying in one of the guest rooms, he really had to remember that. The main bedroom was Mycroft’s room because clearly Mycroft was straight and _not_ in a relationship with Greg.

The DI swore as he fell onto their bed to rub his eyes. He was joined a few minutes later by Mycroft.

‘Gregory, I’m so sorry.’

‘S’alright,’ Greg said. It was getting harder and harder to say that.

‘I can’t get through to Sherlock, can you try and call him? Actually, text him, he’ll look at that.’

‘Er, why?’ Greg asked. ‘Wouldn’t it be funnier to surprise him?’

‘I don’t want to force Sherlock out of the closet,’ Mycroft said, ‘he’d get me back and I really, really don’t want that. Please, Gregory?’

Greg sighed and nodded.

‘Thank you,’ Mycroft said and disappeared.

Scowling, Greg grabbed his mobile and sent a quick text.

 

_ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE! Your mother is at our place and she wants to visit you. We’re coming over now. If you tell your mother I’m with Mycroft I swear to God I will kill you and Mycroft will help, do you hear me? I will out you and John faster than you can deduce who Sally’s sleeping with._

 

Greg continued rubbing his eyes, a headache threatening to break free. How could his perfect, lazy day crumble so quickly? This was the one day in weeks both Greg and Mycroft had managed to have off and stupid Mrs Holmes had gone and ruined it–

His phone buzzed and Greg slid it open.

 

**Are you serious? Please tell me you’re joking, Lestrade.**

**SH**

 

Greg’s fingers flew over the buttons.

 

_About your mum or the murdering you? I’m not joking about either, we’re leaving now. I suggest you move some of your stuff back into your old room unless you want your mum asking questions._

**Yes, of course. How is Mycroft?**

**SH**

 

_Shaken, obviously. Seriously, how could you two not tell your mum you’re gay? Honestly, you’re thirty-five and he’s forty-five. Oh, and I’m staying with Mycroft because of a bad break up. Your mum’s currently scowling at me because I’m gay._

 

He could imagine Mrs Holmes glaring at him through the walls, staring him down because he liked men. He wished homosexuality wasn’t hated so much. Honestly, he really didn’t understand why it bothered people so much.

 

**You told her you’re gay?**

**SH**

 

_I haven’t lied about my sexuality since I was twenty-five and I’m not about to start now, no matter how scary your mum might be._

 

There was a knock on the door and Greg looked up. ‘We’re going now,’ Mycroft said and fidgeted with his jacket. ‘Gregory–’

‘I know,’ Greg said and stood. ‘I know, Mycroft.’ He glanced around before placing a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. ‘I support you, okay?’

Mycroft nodded.

‘My? Come on, let’s go!’ Belle called from the living room.

Mycroft sighed and led Greg from the room, Greg sending off a quick text to Sherlock.

 

_ETA ten minutes._

 

-oOo-

 

It was Sherlock who answered the door, John just behind him.

‘Mummy,’ Sherlock said with a forced smile as his mother embraced him.

‘Sherly, dear, it’s been too long,’ Mrs Holmes said, releasing her son. ‘What have you been doing with yourself? And why haven’t I seen you since last Christmas? Honestly, Sherlock, you’d think I’d done something wrong.’

Mrs Holmes continued to berate her son as they went into the living room, Mycroft and Greg hanging by the door with John.

‘I’m so sorry for this,’ Mycroft whispered, ‘I had no idea she was coming.’

‘S’alright,’ John said. ‘Really.’ He smiled at Greg and said, ‘Tea?’

The DI nodded and followed John into the kitchen, leaving the Holmes boys to catch up with their mother. Greg groaned and fell to sit at the table, ignoring whatever was in the Chinese container. It smelt a little off and Greg felt it was in his best interest not to look.

‘So...’ John started, pulling two clean mugs from the cupboard. ‘Mummy Holmes.’

‘God, John, you should see Myc around her,’ Greg said, thinking about the car ride over. Belle had spent the entire trip telling Mycroft what he should be eating and wearing. ‘He’s like a little boy. He does everything she wants; eats when she asks, wears what she wants, he’ll probably have a curfew too.’ He groaned again.

‘Did she ask why you were at Mycroft’s?’ John asked.

Greg looked up at him, eyes wide. ‘Oh my God, John, it was a nightmare. I went to get the door but Mycroft beat me; we thought it was takeaway. There I was, half-naked, and his mother walks in.’

‘Half-naked?’

‘I was only wearing bottoms, some silk pyjamas Mycroft got me.’ He sighed and looked at the table. ‘I made up a story about breaking up with my boyfriend and Mycroft letting me crash at his place.’

John snorted as he grabbed the tea bags. ‘Isn’t Mycroft a good friend?’

‘Mrs Holmes said that,’ Greg continued, watching John spoon sugar into the mugs. He remembered Belle’s remarks as they entered 221. ‘She said he was such a nice lad to take in, and I quote, ‘a homeless homosexual.’’

‘She called you a homeless homosexual?’

‘It’s better than fag or pillow-biter or–’

‘I get it,’ John cut him off as the kettle boiled. He poured water in and joined the DI at the table. ‘No milk, sorry.’

‘S’alright, I actually prefer it black now. There’s no milk at the Yard and I don’t trust any milk you might have here.’

John smiled and sipped his tea, looking through the kitchen and into the living room. Greg stared at his mug, already feeling worn out. The woman had been in his life all of two hours and was already giving him a headache.

‘So she doesn’t know you and Mycroft are together?’ John asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ Greg shrugged. ‘She asked if Mycroft was seeing that assistant of his. Apparently she’s a lovely woman despite her age and would do good things for Mycroft. I was a little jealous to be honest.’

‘I can imagine,’ John said.

‘What are you going to tell her?’

‘I’ll go along with whatever Sherlock says,’ John said, tapping at his mug. ‘I’m not going to lie about my sexuality though.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ John said. ‘I consider myself gay now, despite having exclusively dated women before Sherlock. I don’t look at anyone else. I haven’t even looked at a woman since we got together.’

‘Seriously?’ Greg asked.

John nodded. ‘I’ve checked out a few people,’ he admitted, ‘all men.’

A sly grin crept up Greg’s face and John sighed. ‘John Watson, have you been checking me out?’

‘No!’ John denied immediately. ‘Why would you even ask that?’

‘John, the only men you spend any time with are me, Mycroft and Anderson. I know you’re not checking Anderson out and you would never have admitted to looking at other men if you were only checking out Mycroft. So, have you been looking at me?’

John burned red and looked down quickly. ‘Maybe,’ he mumbled.

Greg giggled.

‘Shut up.’

‘It’s alright,’ Greg said, ‘I check out other men.’

‘Really?’

‘Mm.’

‘Who?’ John asked.

‘Anderson.’ The doctor snorted into his tea and Greg had to pat his back. ‘I’m kidding. Actors mostly, maybe a guy or two on the street. It doesn’t mean I would cheat on Mycroft. A guy’s allowed to look.’

‘I know,’ John said. ‘It’s just... well, you’re dating my boyfriend’s brother. It’s a little weird.’

‘S’not, I’m extremely sexy.’

John chuckled but cut himself off when he looked up. Greg turned to see Mrs Holmes standing in the doorway, a look Greg had seen on Mycroft’s face many times spread across her delicate features. She gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, ‘Looks can kill.’

‘Erm, hello, I’m John Watson,’ John smiled and stood to shake her hand. Mrs Holmes’ eyes raked up and down before she smiled.

‘Hello, John, Mellibelle Holmes.’

John’s eyebrows went up but he managed to say, ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

‘You two aren’t hiding from us are you?’ Belle asked, eyes flicking to Greg. Greg sunk down in his seat as Mrs Holmes continued, ‘Come join us. We’re going to go out for lunch.’

‘We are?’ John asked.

‘Yes,’ Mycroft said, stepping into the kitchen behind his mother. ‘It seems you and Gregory have been asked along.’ His eyes clearly said, ‘Sorry.’

‘Sounds lovely,’ John said and drained his tea. It didn’t sound lovely to Greg. ‘Where are we going?’

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft clearly got his love of all things posh from his mother. It was a five star restaurant with expensive tables, drapes, and waiters and waitresses dressed in suits. Greg was glad that he knew how to act; Mycroft had dragged him to enough fancy restaurants for the DI to feel at ease while sitting and ordering. Belle glanced at him and he forced a broad smile.

Greg ordered water and Mycroft smiled at him, thanking his boyfriend with his eyes.

‘For you, sir?’ the waiter asked Mycroft.

Mycroft swallowed before saying, ‘Just water, please.’

Belle looked at her son as the waiter asked Sherlock and John. Both men ordered water which forced Belle to ask, ‘Why is everybody ordering water? Is it really that good?’

Greg turned to look at Mycroft and saw that he was fidgeting with his napkin, clearly uncomfortable revealing he was a recovering alcoholic. He badly wanted to reach over and squeeze Mycroft’s hand but _noo_...

‘I don’t drink anymore, Mummy,’ Mycroft said.

Belle raised an eyebrow as the waiter stood calmly, pointedly ignoring what Mycroft was saying. He was paid to wait not eavesdrop.

‘You quit drinking?’ Belle asked. Mycroft nodded. ‘Why?’

‘I was...’ Mycroft sighed and looked away. Greg hated not being able to touch him or look at him. This really was killing the DI. ‘Mother, I’m an alcoholic. I had to stop; it was interfering with my life and my health. I was arrested–’ Belle gasped, ‘– and Gregory showed me that I needed help.’

‘Gregory?’ Belle asked, turning to her son’s boyfriend.

Greg squirmed in his seat. ‘I’m a police officer and I was called when Mycroft was arrested. I made him admit he had a problem.’

Belle’s eyes narrowed on the officer before they were back on her eldest. ‘I see. And you’re currently sober?’

‘Almost three months.’

Belle nodded. ‘Good, My, I’m glad. You were drinking far too much.’

‘We’re all proud of him,’ Greg said and turned red when all eyes flicked to him. He stared at his menu.

‘John, I see you’ve been taking good care of my youngest son,’ Belle said after ordering a glass of lemon water. ‘He’s put on a little bit of weight.’

Sherlock rolled his eyes as John said, ‘You know how he is, Mrs Holmes.’

‘I do,’ Belle nodded. ‘He doesn’t take good enough care of himself. I do hope he doesn’t keep you too busy.’

John smiled. Greg hated the doctor; it seemed he was completely capable of pretending to be Sherlock’s friend. Greg wanted to thump him.

‘Not at all, I don’t mind. Sherlock’s my best friend.’

‘I’m glad,’ Belle smiled as their appetisers were brought out. ‘Sherly was always so different, I worried he’d never find a friend.’

‘I have friends,’ Sherlock pouted.

‘Like who?’ his brother asked.

John and Greg shared a look; the Holmes brothers even bickered in front of Mummy.

Sherlock paused, trying to think of someone. ‘Lestrade!’ he said a little too loudly. ‘Lestrade’s my friend.’

Greg snorted and had to swallow a mouthful of calamari before he said, ‘’Course I’m your mate.’

‘He’s more my mate than yours,’ John pointed out. ‘You never come to the pub with us.’

‘I wouldn’t want to upset your little gossiping sessions,’ Sherlock scowled.

John grinned and nibbled on a prawn.

‘What is it you do, John?’ Belle asked.

‘I’m a doctor,’ John said, ‘I was in the army for a bit but now I work at a little surgery. That and I follow Sherlock around London.’

‘Shooting people,’ Greg muttered. He yelped when Sherlock kicked him under the table. ‘Erm, s’cuse me,’ Greg mumbled into his water. He’d get Sherlock back for that.

‘Do you keep my son safe?’

‘Of course,’ John nodded.

‘We’d all be lost without Doctor Watson,’ Mycroft said and Greg nodded. He remembered what Sherlock was like before John Watson appeared. Take this Sherlock Holmes and add a litre of cocaine, maybe some energy drinks and coffee and red cordial... and times that by a thousand.

‘Do you have a girlfriend, John?’ Belle asked.

All eyes turned to the doctor as John sipped his water. ‘No, no I don’t.’

 _Finally!_ Greg thought. _John feels as nervous as I do._ Greg knew he shouldn’t be feeling happy that Belle had turned her sights on the doctor but really, Greg had been putting up with the woman longer. He just wanted to touch his boyfriend, was it so much to ask?

‘Oh, I hope Sherlock isn’t keeping you too busy,’ Belle tutted. ‘You should find someone to spend time with, John. You must work too much like My.’

Mycroft frowned at his mother but didn’t say anything. His hand slipped off the table and Greg saw his chance. He slipped his own hand under the table and found Mycroft’s. Their fingers threaded together and Mycroft squeezed tightly. Greg smiled at him as Belle continued.

‘You should make time to meet a nice girl. I love that you take care of Sherly but he’s a grown man, I’m sure he could do without you a few nights a week.’

John took another gulp of water and said, ‘Actually, Mrs Holmes, I’m gay.’

Sherlock’s eyes snapped to lock onto John’s and the doctor gave a little shrug. Greg was glad he now had a brother-in-arms; at least now Belle could hate both of them.

Belle stiffened in her chair and swallowed slowly, eyes resting on John. She had the same piercing stare as both her boys and Greg could see that John wanted to run.

‘I... see...’ she said slowly. ‘You are homosexual?’

‘Yes,’ John nodded.

‘Like Gregory.’

John looked at the Greg, who had pointedly stared down at his menu as soon as Belle said the word, ‘homosexual.’ Mycroft’s hands were back on the table and Greg missed them.

‘Yeah, like Greg,’ John said.

‘I suppose you helped him through his... breakup.’

Greg thanked God when John said, ‘Yeah, we had a few chats.’ He was glad that the doctor had remembered his lie.

‘I see. Perhaps you two should date.’

Greg’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide as John said, ‘I’m sorry?’

‘You are both gay men,’ Belle said and stirred her salad. ‘Perhaps you two should date.’

‘Mummy, just because they are both gay doesn’t mean they should date,’ Mycroft said. A nerve was jumping in his jaw and Greg looked at him. Mycroft was so overprotective, he hated anybody thinking Greg was with someone other than him; it must have been killing the politician not to assert his claim over Greg.

‘Of course, of course,’ Belle nodded. ‘But they seem to get along well.’

‘Erm, Greg’s really not my type,’ John tried and looked at Greg again. ‘I mean, he’s great but... er...’ he trailed off and shoved prawns into his mouth, Greg smirking at the red colour tinging his cheeks.

‘Lestrade and John would not do well together,’ Sherlock said, eyes narrowing on Greg.

Greg held up his hands. ‘I didn’t say I wanted to date him.’

‘No, of course not,’ Sherlock growled.

‘Calm down,’ John muttered to him.

Sherlock scowled and folded his arms, sitting back in his seat to pout. Belle didn’t seem to notice anything as she turned on her other son.

‘Mycroft, tell me more about your assistant.’

Mycroft sighed and Greg and John exchanged smirks.

 

-oOo-

 

They all went back to 221B for coffee and Greg and John had to put up with Belle’s remarks about homosexuality. It wasn’t that she was overly homophobic but she clearly didn’t like the idea. Greg and John hid in the kitchen which did little to help her remarks that they should date.

Mycroft and Sherlock were getting more and more irritated as the day wore on until Greg suggested the three Holmeses go out to dinner without them tagging along. Belle jumped on the idea and the brothers scowled as Sherlock led her outside.

Mycroft pounced on Greg, pulling him in for a searing hot kiss. Greg moaned softly as Mycroft backed him into the wall, pressing their bodies together. After spending so long together and not being able to show their affection the small gesture was pushing Greg over the edge. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s neck and pulled him in closer, groaning against his mouth.

‘Please,’ John said suddenly and Mycroft broke the kiss, turning to look at John.

‘My apologies.’

John shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter, I just don’t need to see it.’

Mycroft gave Greg another long kiss before whispering, ‘I’ll see you tonight.’

‘Mm, I’m sneaking in as soon as your mum goes to sleep.’

‘Gregory,’ he sighed.

Greg grinned and kissed him quickly. ‘Go on.’

Mycroft grabbed his coat and disappeared, leaving Greg leaning against the wall. He touched his lips and blushed when John grinned at him.

‘Shut up.’

John chuckled. ‘I wish I could get a kiss before my boyfriend was whisked away for another fancy meal.’

The words had barely left John’s mouth before Sherlock was bounding into the flat. He pushed John’s laptop aside and grabbed the doctor by his jumper. He hauled him half up and pressed their lips together, tongue slipping into John’s mouth and making him moan.

‘Oi!’ Greg shouted and laughed when John managed to throw a pillow at him without disconnecting from Sherlock.

They broke apart and Sherlock stroked John’s cheek, pale blue eyes wide. ‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you too,’ John smiled. He kissed Sherlock again before pushing him back. ‘Go have dinner with your mum.’

‘You’ll be okay?’ he asked.

John chuckled and said, ‘Greg and me will order in.’

Sherlock nodded and kissed him softly. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’

‘Go,’ John said and sighed when Sherlock disappeared, closing the door behind him. John leaned back on the couch and touched his lips. Greg’s giggling had him shouting, ‘Shut up!’

Greg smiled and sat beside John, handing him a beer. ‘When did we become so needy?’ the DI asked, flicking on the TV.

‘Speak for yourself.’

Greg chuckled. ‘Hey, I’ve had three more hours with her _and_ she’s staying at our place tonight. At least you and Sherlock can sleep in the same bed _and_ kiss _and_ have sex _and_ –’

John pushed the pillow into the DI’s face and asked, ‘Pizza?’

Greg smiled.

 

-oOo-

 

Sherlock was in a foul mood when they got back. Greg decided it was time to head home and thanked John for dinner before following Mycroft and Belle from the flat.

They all got into the car and Mycroft sighed, rubbing his eyes; he looked exhausted.

‘Are you okay?’ Greg asked, concern leaking through. He didn’t care what Belle thought; he was worried.

‘Just a small headache,’ Mycroft said and forced a smile.

‘How was dinner?’ Greg asked.

‘Lovely,’ Belle smiled, ‘but I do wish my boys would stop bickering for three minutes.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Greg said. ‘Me and John are always telling them to shut up.’

Belle fixed her piercing gaze on Greg and the DI decided it would be best if he shut up. He spent the rest of the ride in silence, staring out the window and wishing he could spend the rest of December sleeping.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg spent the next three days avoiding Mrs Holmes whenever he could. Mycroft seemed to have all the time in the world for his mother and joined her for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Greg scowled every time he saw them together but claimed he was busy whenever they asked him to join them. Even John Watson was having a difficult time and spent four hours one day hiding out with Greg in his office.

Belle Holmes was... she wasn’t too bad, Greg had to admit. She was charming when she wanted to be and could speak on a number of subjects without boring you to tears. The only real problems were her aversion to homosexuality and her need to try and set up Greg with John. The rare moments they were all together, Belle steered the conversation towards them and their apparent ‘budding romance.’ Greg and John both agreed she was just trying to keep them away from her sons.

Three days after her appearance (Greg felt like it had been a month), Greg heard Belle say she wanted to stay at 221B. He turned to listen, noting that John was staring over his shoulder.

‘I’m too tired to go all the way back to your flat, My,’ Belle said and yawned. ‘I’ll be quite comfortable here.’

‘Of course you will be,’ Mycroft said quickly and looked at Greg, his eyes suddenly filled with lust. They’d barely managed quick kisses before Belle retired for the evening... an entire night without the woman sounded like an early Christmas present.

‘But Mummy, you don’t have any clothes,’ Sherlock said, scowling at his brother as Greg joined them.

‘I have a spare bag in My’s car,’ Belle said, ‘he can go and get it.’

‘Allow me,’ Greg said quickly and exited the flat. He ran to the car and back, stopping to catch his breath before entering 221B. He grinned and dropped the bag on John’s armchair, bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘Well, I’m sure Mrs Holmes wants to get some sleep so we’ll just go,’ he said and looked at Mycroft, hoping he was expressing his absolute need to fuck the politician in one look.

‘Yes, of course,’ the elder Holmes nodded. He smiled at all of them. ‘Have a pleasant evening.’

Sherlock’s scowl was murderous as Mycroft and Greg left, slamming the door behind them. Greg grabbed Mycroft by his lapels and slammed him into the door, attacking his mouth quickly. Mycroft moaned loudly but couldn’t bring himself to care as he threaded his fingers through Greg’s hair.

‘Are we going to make it home?’ he murmured.

Greg didn’t bother answering, instead dragging his boyfriend down the stairs. They fell onto the street, all teeth and tongues and lips. Greg pulled the door open and they both fell in, the driver having to get out and shut it before taking off. Neither man could care.

Mycroft hauled himself onto Greg’s lap and crushed their lips together, tongue forcing its way into the DI’s mouth. ‘I’ve missed this... so much... I’m so sorry... Gregory...’

‘Shut... up...’ Greg groaned, fingers tightening in Mycroft’s hair. ‘Say sorry... later...’

Mycroft managed a nod before he was tearing Greg’s shirt open, not caring when buttons went flying. He licked a trail down to Greg’s nipples and sucked on one, the nub going hard beneath his tongue.

‘God,’ Greg groaned, eyes squeezed shut. ‘Fuck, Mycroft.’

‘Car or bed?’ Mycroft murmured against his skin.

‘Both,’ Greg said.

Mycroft drew back, earning a whine from his boyfriend. Smirking, the politician pulled a bottle of lube and a condom box from a secret department beneath the seat.

‘Since when do we use condoms?’ Greg inquired.

‘These seats are leather, Greg, and I really don’t want to explain the stains to my cleaner.’

Greg smiled and unbuckled Mycroft’s belt. The taller man leaned back to watch Greg work, the DI getting his hands into his underwear and pulling out his cock.

‘Oh, Gregory,’ Mycroft sighed and rubbed a hand through the DI’s hair as Greg stroked him.

‘I really can’t fuck you with my pants on,’ Greg said and shifted. Mycroft kicked his shoes off to get out of his pants. When he was done he turned to see that Greg was half-naked and shrugging from his jacket.

‘How do you want me?’

‘On my lap.’

Mycroft smiled and waited until Greg was sitting again before moving. He ripped the condom open and rolled it onto Greg’s cock, stroking a few times to make sure he was completely hard.

‘Mycroft,’ Greg growled, glaring at his boyfriend. Mycroft smirked and popped the cap of the lube bottle. He spent a good minute preparing Greg, enjoying the moans and cusses and clenched fists. ‘Mycroft!’

Done teasing, Mycroft dropped the lube and hoisted himself onto Greg’s lap. He looked into his boyfriend’s eyes as he grabbed Greg’s cock and pushed himself down.

‘Fuck!’ Greg shouted, forcing himself in swiftly. ‘Myc, Myc, _Myc._ ’

‘Mmf,’ Mycroft managed, pressing his lips against Greg’s. He started moving immediately, drawing himself up and down. He pressed his body close to Greg’s, his cock sliding between their stomachs. ‘Oh God.’

Mycroft pulled himself all the way up and down, Greg hitting his prostate again and again. After three days of barely touching the sex was sending Mycroft and Greg right over the edge. Greg’s fingers dug into Mycroft’s hips, nails bruising as the DI groaned.

‘Fuck, Mycroft, I’m... shit...’

Mycroft couldn’t even speak; he didn’t want to. He was focused completely on his boyfriend, on the waves of pleasure the older man was causing. He bit his lip and moaned as an orgasm spiralled closer and closer and–

Mycroft came with a shout, emptying himself across both their stomachs. He swore repeatedly as Greg came beneath him, pushing up and snapping their hips together.

‘God, Mycroft, fuck me,’ Greg moaned, dropping to sit against the seat. He caught Mycroft’s lips in his own, panting as they exchanged soft, slow kisses, tongues scraping together and lips sucking wetly. ‘How long ’til we get home?’ Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled. ‘However long we want.’

Greg chuckled and ran his hands up Mycroft’s arms. ‘As much as I love fucking you in a car, I’d really like you to bend me over our bed.’

Mycroft smiled and said, ‘You read my mind.’

 

-oOo-

 

They spent the entire night and most of the next day in bed, not bothering to get up for anything other than the bathroom and a drink. They just cuddled in bed for hours, pulling each other close and kissing softly. One of them would then press against the other harder and harder and next thing they knew the couple would have sex again.

Greg felt exhausted as he woke around three, not even caring that he’d missed an entire day of work. He didn’t care if he got fired; he’d have more time to fuck his boyfriend into a sex coma.

Mycroft was still asleep and Greg watched him carefully. They didn’t have enough of this; both worked so hard, they rarely got to wake up next to each other. Greg sighed when he realised it’d be a long time until he could do this again. He and Mycroft couldn’t risk sleeping in the same bed with Belle so close.

Greg hated it; absolutely hated it. It was burning a hole in his heart. He and Mycroft barely got to see each other as it was but now with Belle... Greg was finding it harder and harder to stay away.

He didn’t want to force Mycroft out of the closet; he _couldn’t_ do that, not to the man he loved. But he couldn’t keep lying.

Greg laid back down, drawing his sleeping boyfriend close. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue lying.

 

-oOo-

 

Finally Greg got a call from Donovan about a triple homicide and had to drag his aching form from bed. Mycroft kissed him all the way to the door, whining when Greg pulled away.

‘I have to go to work.’

‘I don’t want you to,’ Mycroft pouted. ‘My mother will be here tonight.’

Greg sighed and leaned against Mycroft’s chest. It was so nice, leaning against Mycroft, having his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around him. He’d missed it so much.

It was then that Greg knew he couldn’t go another night sleeping in the same flat as Mycroft and not being able to touch him. He loved everything about Mycroft Holmes,. How could Greg be expected to sit across the kitchen table and _not_ kiss Mycroft for all he was worth, especially after last night?

‘Myc...’ he said slowly, pulling back to look the taller man in the eye.

Mycroft knew immediately that something was wrong. ‘Yes?’

‘It...’ Greg bit his lip before saying, ‘It’s getting harder and harder to lie to her.’

‘I know.’

‘I don’t...’ he sighed. ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore.’ Mycroft pulled back to look at him properly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love you, Myc,’ Greg said, ‘but we both work so much, we barely ever get to see other. And now the time we _do_ spend together is filled with your mother... we can’t even hold hands. I just... I think it’d be best if I stayed at a hotel or even at the office while she’s here.’

‘Gregory, don’t,’ Mycroft said, gripping Greg’s hand tightly. He felt like his heart was ripping itself into tiny pieces. ‘Please.’

‘John might be able to do it but I can’t,’ Greg said. ‘I’ll come home tonight but tomorrow I’ll check into a hotel or crash at the Yard. I’m sorry, Myc, I love you too much. I can’t be around you and not show it. I... I’m sorry.’

He gave Mycroft another kiss before heading out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He just couldn’t handle it, a week was long enough. After Christmas he could move back in and, hopefully, his and Mycroft’s relationship wouldn’t be too damaged.

Greg made sure not to turn back and look at Mycroft as he hopped into the elevator. If he had he might have seen the look of utter devastation on the politician’s face.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg was feeling miserable when he returned to the flat. He had a night alone in bed to look forward to followed by an awkward breakfast with Belle and then packing. Because he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t be around Mycroft and pretend he wasn’t completely in love with the man. Hopefully staying away for a while would help. They’d been apart before, Greg could handle it again. It was being in the same room and not being able to touch that was killing the DI.

Mycroft and Belle were sitting at the table drinking tea, something they seemed to do all the time. Greg didn’t know how Britain was running without Mycroft.

‘Er, evening,’ he said and swallowed. ‘I’ll get out of your way.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Mycroft said softly, his and Greg’s conversation still fresh in his mind. His stomach had been churning all day.

‘I’m tired,’ Greg said, ‘I’m just going to go to bed. Erm, Mycroft, I’ll be leaving tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stay but you’ve done enough.’ He bit his lip to stop from crying.

‘Well it’s good to get out on your own again,’ Belle said and Greg closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to hear it. ‘Well done, Gregory.’

‘Yeah,’ Greg said, feeling even more deflated. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Gregory...’ Mycroft began, standing to face his boyfriend.

‘Night, Mycroft,’ Greg mumbled.

‘That’s it, I can’t take it anymore!’ Mycroft shouted.

Greg turned to look at him. Mycroft was staring at his mother, hands curled into fists.

‘Mother–’

‘Mycroft, you don’t have to,’ Greg cut in quickly, looking from Belle to his boyfriend. He didn’t want Mycroft doing this over some need to protect Greg or make him feel better.

‘I have to,’ Mycroft said. ‘I can’t handle this, Gregory. I don’t want to lie anymore and I don’t want you to leave.’

‘Mycroft, what on earth are you talking about?’ Belle asked.

Mycroft turned to face her again. ‘Mummy, I’m gay.’

Belle’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. ‘W-what?’

‘That’s right, I like men,’ Mycroft continued, ‘and I have all my life. I have never, ever been attracted to women. I was completely miserable lying to you but I didn’t want to break your heart. I like men and I love Gregory.’

Greg tried to smile when Belle looked at him but he couldn’t quite manage it.

‘M-Mycroft, don’t be ridiculous,’ Belle stammered.

‘I’m not!’ Mycroft said and cursed. He flexed his fingers before saying, ‘I’ve never been in a proper relationship because on some level I felt like I was disappointing you. It’s not your fault, Mother, it’s mine; I should have been honest with you when I first realised it. But I just... I couldn’t...’

He trailed off and looked away, chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Greg wanted to cross the room and pull him in for a hug but wasn’t sure if that would help or make things worse.

‘I can’t lie anymore,’ Mycroft said. ‘I love Gregory and we’ve been dating almost ten months.’

Once again Belle’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Greg.

‘I love him too,’ Greg said. ‘If that helps.’ It probably didn’t.

‘Mycroft... why are you saying this?’ Belle demanded. ‘Has Gregory–’

‘Greg has done nothing but love and support me!’ Mycroft growled. ‘He’s the only reason I stopped drinking. He held me when I broke down, he helped me detox. He told me he loved me when I wanted to jump out a window and give up. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and I can’t continue to pretend he’s anything other than the man I love.’

‘I’m sorry if you’re upset, Mother, but I love Greg and that will never change. Nor will your disappointment make me break up with him. I’m gay and I can’t change that. If you can’t deal with it...’ he sighed and said, ‘I’m sorry.’

He crossed the room and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Greg and Belle alone. Greg fidgeted with his hands, picking at his nails and looking anywhere but at Mummy Holmes.

Greg continued to look down even when Belle disappeared to the guest room, shutting the door softly. Greg sighed and went to find Mycroft.

His boyfriend was curled up on their bed, knees to his chest. Greg sat down carefully and stroked Mycroft’s hair.

‘Mycroft?’

He didn’t say anything.

‘Myc, come on, don’t be like that.’

The elder Holmes finally turned to look at Greg. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘For... everything,’ Mycroft mumbled, pressing his face into Greg’s leg. ‘I don’t know why you put up with me.’

‘I love you.’

‘I don’t know why.’

Greg chuckled. ‘We’ve been over that.’

‘I’m sorry, Gregory. I shouldn’t have yelled but... I couldn’t stand lying anymore.’

‘It’s okay, I get it,’ Greg said and leaned down to kiss him softly. ‘I understand, Mycroft.’

‘She hates me.’

‘She’s your mother, she loves you.’

‘Maybe not anymore.’

Greg sighed and laid down, pulling Mycroft in for a hug. His boyfriend wrapped his arms tightly around him, burying his head in Greg’s chest.

‘It’ll be alright, Myc. Everything will work out.’

Mycroft sighed and tightened his arms around Greg.

 

-oOo-

 

The next morning Mycroft refused to face his mother and sat on the chair in the corner, arms wrapped around his legs. He looked so much like Sherlock but Greg didn’t want to make him any more upset by pointing it out.

Greg entered the kitchen to find Belle sitting at the table. He swallowed and smiled at her before making coffee.

‘You and my son are dating?’

Greg sighed and, without turning, said, ‘Yes.’

‘So you’re _not_ staying here because you broke up with someone?’

‘No,’ Greg said. ‘We... we live together.’

‘I see... how long?’

‘About two months,’ Greg said. They were both silent as Greg’s coffee finished and he added sugar. He had no choice but to face Belle and try to talk her through it.

He sat at the table opposite his boyfriend’s mother and stirred his coffee before looking at her. Belle seemed hurt and slightly confused, her strange violet eyes locked onto Greg.

‘Mrs Holmes, I love your son and I’ll never deny that,’ Greg said, feeling anger rise in his gut. ‘If I ever, even for a minute, thought that our relationship was bad for him I’d break it off immediately.’ He resented people like Belle, people who hated homosexuality. It made him sick. ‘But we’re both happy, we make each other happy, so I’m not leaving just because you’re against homosexuality!’ he said, finally losing control of his anger. He couldn’t keep it back anymore.

‘I’ve spent my entire life defending myself to people like you and quite frankly I’m sick of it! I don’t see why anyone should be ridiculed or belittled just because they like the same sex. I have a respectable job that I’m good at, I keep in touch with my family, I take care of my mates and I _love_ my boyfriend; I’ve never done anything that would put Mycroft in danger!’

Greg was properly ranting now and Belle just stared at him.

‘I’ve been with Mycroft through the best and worst of our relationship! When he was ...’ Greg stopped suddenly, memories of Mycroft filling his head. ‘When he was detoxing I was so scared that I’d lose him or that he’d start drinking again. When he was arrested I...’ the DI broke off to get himself under control. He would _not_ cry in front of Mummy Holmes. Belle sat quietly as she listened, eyes on Greg the entire time.

‘I was so scared he was going to get himself killed,’ Greg said, quietly this time. ‘He was drinking so much and lying and... when he admitted to me that he was an alcoholic I was so relieved. I’ve never felt that in my life. And before that, when he told me he loved me, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love Mycroft. I still feel so unbelievably lucky that I have a man like him to come home to.’

‘He works hard, so do I, but we always make time for each other. We always have dinner when we can and watch movies and read together. It’s the best time of my day when I get to hear from him or just hold his hand.’

‘Do you know how long it took him to grow comfortable enough to even hug me? Or kiss me or hold my hand? He still won’t do it in public; he’s still so terrified that people will think differently of him. He only recently came out at work.’

‘And do you know what they did? Nothing. They chatted, they joked, and they moved on. Because being gay doesn’t change who Mycroft is. He’s still the same son you raised; the same beautiful, amazing man you brought into the world. I can’t thank you enough for making him the man he is today.’

‘But I will _not_ sit here and let you say anything bad about him because he’s gay. Tease me and John if you want, look down on us because we like the same sex, but please, I’m begging you, _don’t_ make Mycroft feel bad because he loves me.’

Greg sighed when he’d finished and chugged down half his cooling coffee. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Belle. He was waiting for the screaming, the abuse, but it never came. They sat in silence for a few minutes as the air thickened with tension.

‘I didn’t like it at first,’ Belle said suddenly and Greg looked up. ‘But I can see that you are good for my son, Gregory. I have never seen Mycroft so happy. And anything that makes my son that happy cannot be bad.’

‘I... really?’ Greg asked, blinking. He couldn’t have heard that right.

‘Yes,’ Belle said. ‘I have always believed that only a man and a woman should lie together. However, you and my son are very compatible. And as I said, you are good for him. You got him to stop drinking, something even Sherly couldn’t manage. I thank you for that.’

‘Er... you’re welcome.’

Belle tutted. ‘I do hope that you are more articulate when in public with my son.’ But there was a small smile playing at her thin lips and Greg smiled back.

‘I try my hardest, ma’am.’

‘Call me Belle, please,’ she said. ‘It seems you will be family soon.’

‘I... what?’ Belle frowned at him. ‘Sorry.’

‘Mycroft is completely in love with you, dear boy. I’m sure he will make it official soon enough; signing papers to become partners and whatnot.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Greg said and blushed slightly. He’d never spoken about marriage with Mycroft. But the thought of wearing a ring that told the world he was taken was awfully thrilling. Somehow he knew it would be a very private thing, maybe with just John and Sherlock as witnesses. And probably Anthea too, or whatever name she was using that day.

‘You’re... you’re really okay with this?’ Greg asked.

‘Continue to make my son happy, Gregory, and we will not have a problem. Are we clear?’

‘Yes, Mrs Holmes. Er... yes, Belle.’

She smiled. ‘Good. Now, where is the silly boy?’

‘Hiding in his room,’ Greg smiled.

Belle rolled her eyes. ‘He was always hiding. Sherly was the seeker.’ She smiled and shouted, ‘My, honey, stop hiding!’ There was a minute’s silence before Mycroft appeared, eyes darting from his mother to his boyfriend.

‘Yes?’

‘I was just chatting to Gregory, dear,’ Belle smiled. ‘He’s a keeper, Mycroft.’ Mycroft gaped openly. ‘It’s rude to stare, My,’ his mother tutted.

‘Sorry, Mummy,’ Mycroft said closed his mouth. ‘I... Gregory is a keeper?’

‘Most definitely,’ Belle said. ‘He stood up for your relationship and wasn’t afraid to back down when I challenged his sexuality. He kept your relationship a secret only because that is what you wished. He got you healthier than you have been in a long time. Despite him being a man, I am more than willing to bless the relationship.’

‘Really?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Certainly, dear,’ Belle smiled. ‘Now get changed, we’ll be late meeting Sherlock and that wonderful Dr Watson. Gregory, try to keep your hands off him, dear.’

Greg smiled and nodded as he followed Mycroft to their bedroom. Once the door was shut Mycroft swept Greg into his arms and planted hot, wet kisses against his mouth.

‘I love you so much.’

‘I know,’ Greg smiled.

‘My mother... she actually likes you...’ Mycroft said and his eyes went wider. ‘She... she _blessed_ our relationship.’

Greg grinned. ‘I’m glad, Mycroft.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘I didn’t do anything.’

Mycroft smiled lovingly at him. ‘Gregory, you were _you._ That was more than enough.’

Greg just shook his head and kissed Mycroft quickly. ‘Come on, let’s get dressed or your mum will have my head.’

 

-oOo-

 

They stepped from the car, Mycroft helping his mother out. She smiled and paused. From where they were standing they could see Sherlock and John, leaning close together and talking softly.

‘Mycroft?’ Belle asked.

‘Yes, Mother?’

‘When do you think Sherly is going to come out?’

Mycroft whipped around to look at her. ‘Pardon?’

Belle smiled. ‘My, I can see it now that I know what to look for. When do you think Sherlock is going to inform me that he is dating Doctor Watson?’

Once again Mycroft found himself gaping. Belle tutted as she went into the cafe, leaving Greg to close his boyfriend’s mouth. ‘Myc?’

‘Yes?’ he asked, blinking.

‘I am _so_ gonna have fun,’ he said and grinned evilly at Sherlock and John.

Mycroft chuckled. ‘You really are perfect for me, Gregory. And you make me happy.’

‘You make _me_ happy,’ Greg said and kissed Mycroft softly. ‘I love you.’

‘And I will always love you, my dearest.’

Greg smiled. And then, much to his surprise, Mycroft reached out and touched his arm, pushing his own through Greg’s. Greg looked up at him and Mycroft smiled. Greg steered him into the cafe and as they approached the table, Mycroft’s hand fell to grip Greg’s, threading their fingers together.

Greg looked at Mycroft, who smiled and squeezed his hand.

With a smile of his own, Greg squeezed back.

 

-oOo-

 

Breakfast was memorable, mostly because Greg and Belle got along like long lost friends. They chatted about the entire menu, reducing Sherlock to a screaming wreck, the genius demanding to know what the hell was going on. Finally Belle couldn’t take it anymore and Greg told Sherlock and John that Belle knew about him and Mycroft.

Greg was a little annoyed that John and Sherlock got off so easily. Mycroft had spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, moaning and dragging Greg closer. He’d honestly thought his mother was going to disown him. Sherlock? He got a smile and a, ‘If John makes you happy than I’m happy.’

But he tried to push those feelings aside as he took Mycroft’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Christmas was a time to be happy, not angry because your life was a goddamn mess.

‘I love you,’ Mycroft whispered when they left the cafe, kissing Greg in front of his mother.

Greg smiled. ‘I love you too.’

 

-oOo-

 

The Friday before Christmas Greg drove to his parents’ house. Mycroft was nervous but a quick kiss from Greg had him smiling. They walked up the pebbled path and Greg had barely knocked before the door was ripped open. Phil Lestrade was a big man, taller and bulkier than his son, with a shock of grey hair and bright blue eyes. He grinned and pulled his son in for a hug.

‘Greg, my boy, I almost forgot what you looked like.’

‘Ha, ha, Dad,’ Greg rolled his eyes and pushed Mycroft inside.

‘And who’s this?’ Phil asked.

‘I’ll introduce him when everyone’s around,’ Greg said.

Phil smiled and nudged Mycroft. ‘Rude little sod, ain’t he?’

Mycroft managed a small smile as he was steered into the dining room. Greg’s sister jumped to envelop her brother in a hug.

‘Greggie, I haven’t seen you in nearly a year, do you realise that?’

‘I know, Val, work’s hard.’

‘Work,’ Val tutted. ‘Always your excuse.’ Her eyes swivelled to Mycroft. ‘And who’s this?’

‘Mum!’ Greg interrupted, hugging his mother. ‘How are you?’

Emily smiled and said, ‘Same old, same old, your father’s complaining about his back again. Men, all the same.’

‘I heard that!’ Phil shouted from across the room.

‘You were supposed to, dear!’ Emily retorted and blew her husband a kiss.

‘Greg,’ Val’s husband, Henrey, nodded. Mycroft remembered John’s story about Greg sleeping with Henrey twenty years ago and tried to stop a giggle escaping his lips. Greg scowled at him and Mycroft just smiled.

‘Hi Henrey,’ Greg said.

‘Uncle Greg!’ Val’s five-year-old son screamed across the room and slammed into Greg. The DI let out a breath of air and winced as Jessie wrapped his arms around Greg’s hips.

‘Jess, hello.’

‘I missed you!’ Jessie shouted.

‘Missed you too, buddy,’ Greg chuckled and ruffled his hair.

Jessie turned to look up at Mycroft. ‘Who’s he? Why’s he so tall?’

Greg smiled and wrapped an arm around Mycroft’s waist. ‘Okay, introductions. Mycroft, this is my mum Emily, my dad Phil, my sister Val and her husband Henrey. These are her kids; Rory and Jessie. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Mycroft Holmes.’

Emily grinned as Phil shook Mycroft’s hand. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Mycroft. How long have you and Greg been dating?’

‘Ten months,’ Mycroft answered.

‘Ten _months_?’ Val gasped. ‘Honestly Greg, do you hate us or something?’

‘Valerie,’ he sighed.

‘No, seriously. Ten months and you’re only telling us now? Next you’ll be living together.’

‘Well...’ Greg began.

‘Oh God I hate you sometimes,’ Val tutted. ‘I get more information from the newspapers. Speaking of which, I saw a picture of you and some guy in a deerstalker; what’s with that?’

‘You’re meeting him now,’ Greg scowled, ‘what’s the problem? And the guy in the deerstalker was Sherlock, Mycroft’s brother.’

‘The arrogant genius?’

‘Val!’ Greg hissed.

Mycroft chuckled. ‘It’s alright, Gregory. Sherlock _is_ an arrogant genius.’

Val smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

‘Ignore them, they bicker like little kids,’ Emily smiled. ‘Tell us about yourself, Mycroft.’

‘Can we sit before you interrogate him?’ Greg asked.

With a grin, Emily pulled out two chairs and made them sit. ‘So, tell us about yourself, Mycroft.’

Greg groaned and Mycroft smiled. ‘I occupy a minor position in the British government; mostly paperwork and meetings. I met Gregory through my brother; he consults on murders and robberies. I am deeply, deeply in love with Gregory and we’ve been living together two months.’

Emily clapped her hands together when Mycroft planted a soft kiss against Greg’s cheek. ‘Oh, you two are so adorable.’

Greg burned red and Mycroft just grinned. He was so happy to be able to kiss Greg and admit to his feelings in front of the DI’s family. They were so welcoming, so nice; Mycroft felt comfortable immediately.

‘Are we having dinner now or did you want to berate me for not coming over more?’ Greg asked.

Phil chuckled. ‘Right, right, sorry. Come on, into the living room to chat before dinner.’

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft fell into conversation with Phil Lestrade about politics. They would have gone all night if Greg hadn’t pulled Mycroft away for dinner.

‘Honestly, why do you want to talk about work?’

‘My work is interesting,’ Mycroft said.

Greg rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, no thanks,’ he shook his head as Val tried to hand him a beer. ‘I’m not drinking tonight.’

She paused, running eyes over her brother. ‘Why? Are you driving?’

‘No, well yeah but I just don’t feel like a beer,’ Greg said. Truth was he knew Mycroft still couldn’t handle tasting beer on his lips. As much as it killed Mycroft to admit, he wasn’t strong enough; not yet.

Val frowned. ‘Come on, Greg, you always have a beer with me and Dad on Christmas. What’s wrong? You quit or something?’

‘No,’ Greg said, ‘I just don’t feel like a beer, okay?’

But Val never let anything go. She always had to know _everything_. ‘What’s going on?’

Greg sighed. He really didn’t want to embarrass Mycroft in front of his family. But he knew Val wouldn’t stop until he made up a convincing lie. Suddenly warm arms circled his waist and Greg turned as Mycroft kissed him on the cheek.

‘It’s my fault; Gregory doesn’t drink around me.’

Val raised her eyebrows. ‘Why?’

Most of the family was watching now and Greg glared at Val. Mycroft’s hands tightened around Greg’s waist and he took in a breath. ‘I was an alcoholic for a number of years and have only been sober three months. Gregory knows that I can’t taste alcohol on him or I’ll most likely fall off the wagon.’

Silence followed his words, Greg’s parents exchanging looks, Val’s seventeen-year-old watching Mycroft carefully, five-year-old Jessie trying to figure out what an alcoholic was.

‘Oh, that’s so cute,’ Val grinned and took a swig of the beer.

‘What?’ Greg said.

Val smiled. ‘You’d rather kiss your boyfriend than drink; that’s bloody cute.’

Their parents chuckled and Greg breathed a sigh of relief. He turned so he was facing Mycroft and gave him a kiss. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ Mycroft smiled.

‘Dinner!’ Val screamed and they shared a laugh.

 

-oOo-

 

Dinner was lovely and Mycroft thoroughly enjoyed himself. Greg’s family was wonderful and Mycroft felt completely at home as they retired to the living room to chat. Mycroft and Greg both stuck to water and soft drinks, the DI wrapping an arm around Mycroft’s waist and holding him tight. His parents kept sharing smiles and Val would giggle every five minutes.

Gifts were exchanged and Mycroft excused himself to have a cigarette. He hadn’t had one in months but felt the need to give Greg some time alone with his family.

He was on his third cigarette when Val joined him.

‘Hello there,’ Val smiled. She looked a lot like her brother; average height and build with thick brown hair and dark eyes.

‘Hello,’ Mycroft said.

‘Can I borrow your lighter?’ Val asked. Mycroft passed it to her and she lit her smoke. ‘Cheers.’

They smoked in silence for a few minutes, Val leaning against the house and Mycroft standing with a hand in his pocket.

‘Do you love my brother?’

Mycroft blinked and turned to face Val. ‘Pardon?’

‘Do you love my brother?’ Val repeated.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I see... and you live together?’

‘Yes, I asked and Gregory accepted.’

‘Right... ten months, yeah?’

‘Ten months,’ Mycroft nodded.

‘Okay...’ Val said and flicked ash from the end of her smoke. ‘I guess this is what they call the, ‘If you hurt him I’ll hurt you,’ speech.’

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, waiting his boyfriend’s sibling to continue.

‘I love Greg; he’s the best big brother anyone could ask for,’ Val said. ‘He had a tough time after coming out; Mum and Dad didn’t accept it at first and there was a lot of yelling. But they got over and they’re fine now, as long as he’s happy they’re happy.’ She sucked back on her cigarette.

‘Greg’s never really loved anyone before. I mean, he’s brought guys home but none that he ever looked at with absolute adoration in his eyes... that’s how he looks at you, Mycroft. I can tell he loves you with all his heart. If you hurt him, if you betray him, no amount of government connections will stop me hunting you down, got it?’

Mycroft swallowed before nodding; Val was dead serious. For some reason Greg’s younger sibling scared Mycroft more than facing terrorist leaders.

She grinned. ‘Brilliant.’

The door behind them opened and Greg popped out. ‘There you are,’ he smiled at Mycroft. ‘Smoking again?’

Mycroft looked down. ‘Sorry.’

‘No worries,’ Greg said and plucked the cigarette from Mycroft’s hand. He stood smoking as Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg’s waist, resting his chin on Greg’s shoulder. He looked at Val carefully. ‘What were you talking about?’

‘Nothing,’ Mycroft and Val said in unison.

Greg raised an eyebrow and Val shrugged. ‘Okay,’ he said slowly. ‘That wasn’t weird.’

Val chuckled and flicked out her cigarette. ‘You look good, Greg.’

‘Thanks. You too.’

Val gave them both a smile before disappearing back into the house.

‘What were you two talking about?’ Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged. ‘Nothing.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about, Gregory.’

‘I don’t either.’

Mycroft chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to Greg’s neck. ‘Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

 

-oOo-

 

The night came to an end with Greg promising to keep in touch more. They all knew he was lying. Mycroft thanked them all before linking his hand with Greg’s and towing the DI back to his car.

‘Your family is wonderful,’ Mycroft said.

‘My family’s weird.’

‘And wonderful.’

Greg chuckled. ‘I’m glad you like them.’

‘I love them, Gregory,’ Mycroft said and pulled Greg in for a kiss. ‘I love you.’

‘It’s ’cause I’m hot,’ Greg said.

‘Mm, that’s definitely one of the reasons,’ Mycroft said and kissed him softly. ‘One of the many, many reasons.’

‘Really?’ Greg said. ‘It’s the only reason I love you; your hot body and these sexy suits.’ He ran a hand down Mycroft’s waistcoat and grinned.

‘You have a dirty mind, Detective Inspector.’

‘And?’

‘Nothing.’

Greg chuckled and pulled Mycroft to the car.

 

-oOo-

 

Christmas was held at Mycroft’s and Greg’s flat for two reasons. One: it was bigger, 221B was way too small for the five of them. Two: It was Mycroft’s and Greg’s first Christmas together. Sherlock fought over and over again with his brother on the days leading up to Christmas but he was outvoted by Mycroft, Greg _and_ John. Finally he shouted, pouted, and scowled as he sat on the couch in the rather big flat.

Everybody ignored him as they passed around presents and chatted happily. Greg and Mycroft held hands most of the day and Greg blushed every time Mycroft looked his way.

John and Sherlock exchanged gifts on the couch and disappeared into the bathroom, Mycroft shouting, ‘Sherlock, please!’

Both he and John ignored him, the bathroom door locking with a loud click.

‘I’m going to choose to ignore that,’ Belle said.

‘Yeah,’ Greg nodded. ‘Me too.’

Belle decided to spend the night at 221B, much to Sherlock’s annoyance and Mycroft’s joy. As soon as the front door was shut and locked, Greg dragged Mycroft into the bedroom. They had separate showers, Mycroft cleaning up a bit before joining Greg in the bedroom.

Greg stepped from their en-suite bathroom to find Mycroft sitting on their bed, a large wrapped present on his lap.

‘Mycroft,’ Greg smiled. The couple had decided to exchange gifts privately and Greg grinned as he hopped onto the bed.

‘Open it,’ Mycroft said.

Greg tore the wrapping free and found a large wooden box.

‘Myc, it’s beautiful,’ Greg said, running his hands along the chest. The wood was smooth and varnished, the sides carved with swirls and flowers.

‘Open it,’ Mycroft repeated.

Greg did and frowned. The box was completely filled with... files? Before he could say anything, Mycroft leaned forward and plucked one of the files out of the box. No, wait, not a file... a vinyl album.

‘Oh,’ Greg said as he took the album in his hands. It was Muse’s latest album, _The Resistance._

Greg went through some of the others and realised they were all vinyl copies of his favourite albums; albums by Muse, Green Day, The Living End, The Beatles, AC/DC, The Clash, The Ramones... each and every album he’d ever loved was in there.

‘Oh my God, Myc.’

‘Do you like it?’ Mycroft asked. ‘It took me some time to find all of them. Most of the band’s websites sell them but others were harder.’ He frowned. ‘If you don’t like it I can get you something else.’

Greg looked up to stare at him, tearing his eyes away from the _American Idiot_ vinyl he was drooling over. ‘Huh?’

‘I can get you something else, Gregory,’ Mycroft said, ‘if this present isn’t satisfacto– _mmf_!’ He was cut off when Greg attacked him, forcing their lips together in a crushing kiss. Mycroft moaned as Greg licked at his mouth, nibbling on the politician’s bottom lip before pulling back.

‘Mycroft, don’t be stupid,’ he panted. ‘This is the best gift I’ve ever got; this must have cost you shitloads.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Money isn’t important to me, Gregory.’

‘It is to those of us who are poor.’

Mycroft tutted and ran a hand through the DI’s spiky hair. ‘Gregory, you needn’t worry about money, not with me. I know you like to pay your own way and I respect that. But please know that I don’t care about money.’

‘I know, Myc,’ Greg said and kissed him again, softly this time. ‘I just... God, I really love this. Thank you.’

Mycroft shifted back and grinned smugly. Greg rolled his eyes. He allowed Greg ten minutes to go through the chest before pulling it away.

‘No!’ Greg whined and Mycroft chuckled, stuffing the vinyls back in and flipping the chest shut. He placed it on the floor. ‘I was having fun.’

‘And what about my gift?’ Mycroft asked.

Greg rolled his eyes. ‘Stuff your present; give me the chest back.’

Mycroft’s smile morphed into a grin when he turned back to see Greg holding out a wrapped gift.

‘Open it,’ he said, imitating Mycroft perfectly.

‘What am I going to do with you?’ Mycroft peeled the wrapping paper free, sliding a nail beneath the tape and flipping it all open.

‘How’d you do that?’ Greg demanded.

‘It’s one of my many talents,’ Mycroft said as he pulled the paper free to find a brown paper bag. ‘I’m afraid it’s not something that can be taught.’ Greg bit his lip as Mycroft upturned the paper bag. The antique pocket watch fell out and Mycroft’s eyes went wide.

‘Do you like it?’ Greg asked.

Mycroft was silent as he picked the watch up and turned it in his fingers. He popped it open and found a small picture of himself and Greg; arms wrapped around each other, faces grinning at the camera.

‘Gregory, this is beautiful,’ Mycroft said. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘I had the back engraved.’

Mycroft turned the watch over and grinned:

 

_I love you, Mycroft Holmes, with all my heart._

_Gregory_

_xxx_

 

‘I put my whole first name since you like it so much.’

Mycroft chuckled and pulled Greg in for a kiss. ‘I love it, Gregory, thank you.’ He smiled warmly as he placed the pocket watch on his bedside table. ‘How’d I get so lucky?’

‘Dunno, I don’t think we’ll ever figure it out,’ Greg shrugged. ‘That’s not your only present, you know.’

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’

Greg smiled and slipped from bed. He stood back and slowly, achingly slowly, removed his shirt. He made a show of trailing fingers down his chest, across his nipples, biting his lip as he squeezed.

Mycroft shifted on the bed, his pants growing uncomfortable. ‘Erm, Gregory?’

‘Mm?’ his boyfriend murmured, eyes now closed. He raked nails down his ribs, his sides, coming to a rest at the top of his pants. He slipped a thumb beneath the waistband, pulling his pants slightly lower to show more skin.

‘Gregory,’ Mycroft whined, eyes focused on his partner’s pants. He slipped across the bed quickly and reached out but Greg backed away, opening his eyes. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘I’m a tease,’ Greg smirking. He rubbed his calloused fingers up and down his chest, dipping into his bellybutton before drawing patterns through his chest hair. Mycroft was practically drooling and Greg grinned. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

Mycroft nodded.

‘Good,’ Greg said. Both hands dropped to his waistband and he pulled them down slowly. The tip of his erection appeared briefly but disappeared when Mycroft reached out again. ‘Ah, ah, naughty. Naughty boys don’t get presents.’

Mycroft glared at him, folding his arms and leaning back. ‘Gregory, you’re beginning to annoy me.’

‘Naughty boys don’t get presents, Myc,’ Greg repeated. ‘Now, are you going to be nice?’

Mycroft huffed but nodded.

‘Good,’ Greg said. He went back to his little show, staring again. He placed one finger against his lips and sucked on the digit, watching Mycroft’s mouth drop open as he took more into his mouth, coating his skin in saliva.

‘Oh God,’ Mycroft moaned as Greg trailed the finger over his right nipple, circling before pinching.

Greg smirked. He continued the tease for a few minutes before sliding from his pyjama pants.

‘Oh, Gregory,’ Mycroft said as a smile lit up his face. His eyes raked over Greg carefully, taking in the spiky hair, the grin, the curve of his neck. He looked over Greg’s hard nipples and chest hair, mouth watering as he savoured the look of the firm and muscled body he loved. Lower down were Greg’s hips (God, what those hips did to Mycroft) and finally, above muscled thighs, was his erection.

It was standing to attention just for Mycroft, thick and long. Wrapped around the hard, hot flesh was a bright red bow that made Mycroft laugh.

‘That’s my other present?’ he asked and Greg nodded, turning to his side so Mycroft could get a better look.

‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes, most definitely,’ Mycroft nodded. ‘Can I open it now?’

Greg giggled and crawled back onto the bed. He kissed the tops of Mycroft’s feet, moving up to his ankles and calves. Mycroft moaned softly and fidgeted as Greg continued placing little pecks along his trouser-clad skin, licking his knees and thighs. He bypassed Mycroft’s cock on purpose, ignoring the bump in favour of tonguing Mycroft’s hips and stomach.

‘Gregory.’

‘Yes, Mycroft?’ Greg asked, pulling Mycroft’s shirt off.

‘Please?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’ Mycroft demanded as Greg licked a trail up to his nipples. He gripped one delicately and grinned.

‘Hmm, I don’t think you’ve really deserved that present yet, Mycroft.’

‘When are you going to stop teasing me?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Never,’ Greg said. He sucked on Mycroft’s nipple quickly while teasing the other one. In seconds he’d moved up to Mycroft’s neck, taking soft skin into his mouth and sucking hard. He didn’t care if he left marks; it was Christmas, he was going to mark Mycroft as his own.

‘Greg,’ Mycroft groaned, hips rising, cock searching for any type of friction. Greg continued to suck at Mycroft’s skin, bruising his pale neck and rubbing him all over. ‘Greg, please, oh God, please.’

Greg smiled, seemingly satisfied. He pulled Mycroft’s pants clear and his left hand dropped to cup Mycroft’s balls, fingering the sensitive skin before moving up to clasp his cock.

‘Jesus, thank you.’

Greg smirked as he palmed Mycroft’s cock, stroking slowly from base to head. Mycroft continued to moan, bucking every so often into Greg’s hand, but his touch was too soft to really do anything and soon Mycroft was begging again.

‘Gregory, please.’

‘I’m beginning to like that,’ Greg mumbled against Mycroft’s chest, lips dancing across his skin softly. ‘You begging for me.’ He kissed softly before looking up at Mycroft, both their eyes blown with lust. ‘Could we make it a permanent thing?’

‘You’ll be the death of me.’

‘Mm, most probably.’

Mycroft thrust again and Greg moved to straddle his hips. Mycroft blinked in surprise, as though he couldn’t quite believe that Greg was actually sitting on him. Greg pushed himself forward, his erection rubbing against Mycroft’s.

‘God, thank you.’ He frowned when Greg giggled. ‘Shut up.’

Greg leaned down to place a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, making sure not to open his mouth. There was no way his teasing was over.

Mycroft flipped him suddenly, crashing their lips and bodies together. He began pushing immediately, erections rubbing together quickly.

‘M-Mycroft,’ Greg moaned, half torn between annoyance and need. He grabbed Mycroft’s hips only to find them moving. ‘Mycroft?’

He smiled down at Greg, sitting back to admire his body. ‘Now look at the mess you’ve got yourself into, Detective Inspector.’

Greg smiled and moved to grab Mycroft again. But the politician had other plans and wrapped long fingers around Greg’s wrists. He pushed them up, pinning Greg’s hands to the headboard.

‘Now, now. A man must know his limits, Detective.’

Greg didn’t bother fighting Mycroft. Though he didn’t look it, the bureaucrat was rather strong. ‘I know my limits thank you very much.’

Mycroft smirked. ‘I’m not sure you do. You seem to be under the impression that you can tease me for twenty minutes and get away with it.’

‘Can’t I?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Well then...’ Greg said slowly, running his eyes up his boyfriend’s body. ‘How exactly are you doing to punish me?’

‘I haven’t decided yet,’ Mycroft murmured. He kept Greg’s hands pinned and dropped one of his own to pinch the DI’s nipples, Greg moaning softly and pushing his hips up. Mycroft allowed him, enjoying the friction and stab of pleasure that went through his body.

‘You know,’ Greg grunted, hips moving quickly, ‘teasing sucks when you’re on the other side of it.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Myc?’

‘Yes, Gregory?’

‘You can have your present now.’

‘Hmm,’ Mycroft said, eyes dropping to look at the ribbon around Greg’s cock. ‘I’m not sure I want it.’

‘You realise I’m going to stick it in your arse, right?’

That broke Mycroft completely. He let Greg go to pull at the ribbon, making sure he didn’t hurt his boyfriend as he pulled it clear. He bent to take Greg’s cock in his mouth, sucking back and swirling his tongue around the head.

‘Oh,’ Greg groaned and pushed up, sinking more of his hot flesh into Mycroft’s mouth. ‘God, yes, more.’

‘Mm,’ Mycroft mumbled around him, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. He sucked back more as Greg bucked into him.

‘God... Myc... I’m gonna... shit...’

Mycroft pulled back quickly, letting Greg fall from his lips. He wrapped long fingers around Greg’s cock and stroked very softly, looking up into his boyfriend’s eyes. ‘Gregory?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Please don’t tease me again.’

‘I promise I won’t,’ Greg said and reached up to run his fingers along Mycroft’s face, ‘I promise I won’t for a whole month if I can fuck you right now.’

Mycroft chuckled and pressed their lips together. ‘I guess that would be acceptable.’

Greg pushed him back and Mycroft flopped onto the bed, spreading his legs so Greg could shift between them. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the dresser and squirted the cold liquid onto his hand. He rubbed it along his palm to warm it up before pressing a finger into Mycroft’s entrance.

Mycroft gasped and groaned as Greg buried his finger up to the knuckle. He thrust in and out slowly before adding another finger, then another, twisting them to make sure Mycroft was well prepared. Mycroft was still so tight and Greg groaned as his boyfriend squeezed around him.

‘Now, Greg, please fuck me,’ Mycroft said.

Greg couldn’t wait any longer. Forget the teasing, forget everything. He needed to fuck Mycroft right then and there.

He pushed Mycroft so the politician was lying on his stomach, bending over him to breathe into his ear. ‘I’m going to make this last as long as possible,’ he whispered and Mycroft shivered. ‘So don’t you go coming any time soon, alright?’

Mycroft managed a weak nod as Greg’s legs settled on either side of him. He brought his cock to Mycroft’s entrance and rubbed at his cheeks with one hand, loving the smooth skin and silky feeling.

‘Gregory?’

Greg pushed in swiftly, buried up to the hilt in a second. Both men groaned loudly and Greg dropped his hands, placing them on either side of Mycroft’s body. God, Mycroft was just getting tighter and tighter.

‘Move.’

Greg couldn’t refuse. He began a swift and quick rhythm, thrusting in and out of Mycroft and swearing loudly. God how he’d missed this; how he’d missed fucking Mycroft into the mattress, of hearing the man moan and writhe beneath him. He’d never wait two months again; not even the last few times they’d had sex could wipe the long ten weeks from Greg’s mind.

‘Greg, please, h-harder!’

Greg took his weight on both hands and forced himself in deeper and faster. Mycroft let out a shuddering groan and thrust himself back to meet each of Greg’s pushes. Skin slapped against skin and ragged breaths were torn from each man as they moaned and cussed.

Greg didn’t think he could keep this up much longer, not with Mycroft squeezing around him. He moaned loudly and pulled out.

‘No!’ Mycroft moaned as Greg forced him to roll over.

‘Legs around my waist, now!’ Greg panted. Mycroft smiled and complied, pulling Greg closer with his ankles. Greg pushed back in and swore, ‘Shit.’

‘Fuck,’ Mycroft said and pushed himself down, making Greg penetrate him deeper. ‘Move, damn it!’

Greg chuckled and started thrusting again, hands gripping Mycroft’s arms tightly. His nails dug in deeply as Mycroft whimpered beneath him, long, thin fingers wrapping around his own cock. He pulled in time with Greg’s thrusts and Greg wanted to help, really he did, but he could barely focus on keeping himself buried again and again into Mycroft’s tight heat. He didn’t think he’d be able to multi-task.

‘Fuck, M-Mycroft,’ Greg spluttered as he felt an orgasm tug at his groin. He managed to keep his eyes open and focused on his boyfriend. ‘Fuck, fuck, shit...’

‘I can’t wait, Greg,’ Mycroft gasped, ‘I... I can’t...’

‘Come, I want you to,’ Greg begged. ‘Please, Myc, come.’

Mycroft’s eyes slid shut and he bit his lip, trying to breathe at the same time. His fist tightened around his leaking cock and he whimpered.

‘Come, Myc,’ Greg said, his own orgasm approaching at warp speed. ‘Come.’

Finally Mycroft reached his peak and moaned loudly as he came, semen coating his stomach and fist. He continued pumping as he tightened around Greg, body twisting in bliss.

The sight of his partner coming completely undone, added with the heat and sudden tightness, made Greg come. He swore loudly as he came inside Mycroft, thrusts jolting and slowing as he rode out the high.

When Greg opened his eyes he was on his back. He turned to see Mycroft beside him, smiling to himself and humming.

‘I take it that was good for you?’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Yes, Gregory.’

‘Mm,’ Greg mumbled. He felt completely boneless and utterly fucked. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk again, Myc.’ Mycroft laughed again. ‘No, serious; you’re gonna have to wait on me hand ’n foot.’

‘I wouldn’t mind doing that.’

‘Nah, I’d annoy you.’

‘I don’t think you could.’

‘I reckon I can,’ Greg grinned. ‘Remember my little tease?’

Mycroft shifted to look at Greg carefully, bright blue eyes hazy with sleep. He smiled warmly and said, ‘Even though you frustrated me beyond belief with that little act, Gregory, I still love you with all my heart.’ He paused, eyes locked on Greg’s. ‘I’m glad I met your family and I’m glad my mother knows.’

‘Me too,’ Greg said. He wanted to roll over and hug Mycroft, draw him close... but he really couldn’t move. ‘Come here.’

‘Demanding again,’ Mycroft smiled as he moved to wrap his arms around Greg. He nuzzled into Greg’s neck, ignoring the sticky mess on his stomach.

‘I love you, Myc,’ Greg yawned, eyes drifting shut. ‘Never doubt that.’

‘Love you too,’ Mycroft murmured into his ear. Silence followed before Mycroft said, ‘I hate you when you tease me.’

‘Do not.’

‘Do.’

‘Do not.’

‘I do, Greg-ory... this was... best... Christmas... e-ver...’

Greg peeled his eyes open to see that Mycroft had fallen asleep. He grinned and, after managing to wrap an arm around his boyfriend, closed his eyes once more.

He agreed completely.

Best Christmas ever. ** __**

* * *


End file.
